


Your Thoughts Reek of Sugar

by Sammichplease



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aliens with Spiky Dicks, Frosting, Gen, Heavy - Freeform, Markers, Sass, Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:39:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammichplease/pseuds/Sammichplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am alone, but he is here. So I'm still alone, with the company of a jackass. Why me? Why the middle of the night??</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sandpaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He ate all my frosting. What a douche

My expo marker glided across the whiteboard, swirling with the fluid curves of longhand writing. Pleased with my work, I set the board down in front of me, examining the elegant words with a small smile playing on my lips. 

I was sitting in my bed, in frog boxers and a tank top, marker in hand. "Very nice," I heard a familiar voice right beside me as he mused over my work. I snapped my head to glare at him, annoyed that he would appear in my bedroom when I was supposed to be alone. 

"Don't you have candy to suck on somewhere?" Gabriel turned to look at me with an amused expression that never seemed to leave his face.

"Not at the moment," He replied, dipping a finger into the leftover cupcake frosting I was snacking on for the night. Sucking it from his finger, he pointed to the sentence written with his other hand. I had finished it with a heart. "You have some good ideas, kid." I raised an eyebrow at him.

I hope you get probed by horny aliens with sandpapery cacti dicks It read.

"I should have done that the last time," He mumbled mostly to himself. Sure that he did not come into my room just to compliment my torture methods, I narrowed my eyes and watched him dip another finger into my midnight snack and suck gingerly at it.

"Why are you here, Gabriel?" He dropped his hand and shrugged. 

"I can't just drop by to visit one of my favorite humans?" 

"No." He quirked his mouth and hooded his eyes in mild irritation. "Now spill."

He sat on the bed with a heavy sigh. "I'm bored," He concluded.

I licked my lips in thought. "That's why you popped into my room at one in the morning and ate my frosting?"

"You're the only one who doesn't want to kill me who doesn't need to sleep, and the boys want to kill me when they're awake."

"I wonder why..." I rolled my eyes. 

"Hey!" He objected, furrowing his brow.

I smirked. "I do sleep, Gabriel."

"You go to sleep at four in the morning and wake up at eight." 

"How did you know that?" 

"I see your light on," he stated, as simple as two plus two.

"You can transport wherever you want at any point in time and you choose to hang around my room to see if my light is on in the middle of the night?" I asked, unconvinced.

"I've been around for- almost forever; all the places I've seen a thousand times never change. I've never seen your bedroom light."

"I sure hope not."

He cocked his head in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I hope you haven't been hanging around my bedroom for the sole reason of seeing whether or not my light is turned on." I responded, stifling a yawn.

"You're getting tired." His expression became serious as he snapped a huge bucket of chocolate frosting and a spoon on my lap.

"What the-" I looked down and laughed, picking up the spoon. He remained silent. "You know coffee works just as well..." I brought a spoonful of frosting to my mouth and mid-lick I narrowed my eyes and smirked at him, realizing it was coffee flavored.

Lazily churning the thick frosting with my spoon, I sighed. "What are you doing, Gabriel?" I asked in an exasperated tone. 

"I'm sitting here."

"Why?"

He gave me a look like I had asked him if he had a crush on Hitler. "Because I wasn't in the mood to stand-?"

I waved away his sarcasm. "No, no." I yawned. "You- you conjured up something for someone other than yourself. That particular someone being-" another yawn. "Me."

He dipped a newly manifested spoon into my bucket. "I like you." That woke me up.

"Like, Sam's ass like?"

"No, no." I relaxed a bit, slumping over in my tired state. "That's an entirely different concept. You're- well, you talk to me." It sounded hard for him to explain. He didn't need to, because I wasn't in the mood to torture Gabriel and I understood what he meant.

"Oh, yeah. Well, you eat my snacks and bring me more, so we're even." I gave a foggy smile and he laughed.

"You look stoned. I'll let you sleep." 

"No, no. Uh, finish this frosting with me." Chuckling, he looked into the bucket he had created bigger than my head. 

"I highly doubt you can even finish half of that."

I pouted my lip. "That's why you're here. Here, I'll just write while you talk or something."

He sat back down, hesitant and watching with narrowed eyes and a smirk pulling on his lips while I pulled up my old laptop and started a new document. 

"What should we call it?" I asked, swallowing a mouthful of sugary coffee-flavored paste. 

Gabriel licked his spoon and tried to balance it on his nose. I laughed when it fell, head tilted back in hilarity at his awfully human mistake. He glared at the spoon and brought his attention back to me. 

"Call it Sandpaper." 

I scrunched up my nose."Sandpaper?"

He pointed back to my whiteboard. I shrugged and pulled up a new document and began to type.


	2. Refuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the fuck crawled up his ass and died

I set down the whiteboard and dropped my expo-marker, too tired to attempt a piece of art and resorted to writing. I sighed and sat on my bed with my knees to my chin in a thoughtful silence.

"You're writing again," I heard a grim murmur beside my bed.

"I always write," I replied without moving my head, voice muffled by my knees.

"You're writing on your whiteboard. You don't do that unless you're lonely." 

I turned my head to face him so my cheek was balancing on one knee. Furrowing my brow, I was annoyed that the archangel had me all figured out already. "What do you care?" I snapped. "There are so many wonderful things not in this room that you could be doing." My sleepy voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Why travel so far when I have a wonderful thing right here?" He asked with a shit-eating smirk, ignoring my curt attitude and sliding onto the bed to face me. Did he just call me his thing? Hell no. At the moment I was finding any reason I could to be angry at the all-powerful being before me for reasons I knew not.

"Har har. I'm not that easy, nor that wonderful. Leave now, or beware the consequences of spending time with"-pause for dramatic effect, as I lifted my head to meet his attentive eyes-"Tired writer mopey chick!" I performed a quick jazz hand movement and imitated a hushed terrified crowd. Gabriel leaned forward, apparently amused by my theatricality. 

"I'll take my chances. Why do you spend so much time being sad in the middle of the night? It just seems exhausting." He ended the last sentence with humorous exasperation, although a hint of genuine curiosity had shown through. Smiling at the question, I leaned back into my pillows and let out a sigh.

"The middle of the night is the most appropriate time to be sad. It's such a strong wave of emotion, you can't help but be pulled under in the solitude of the night."

"I thought it was- well, sad? Doesn't that kind of suck?"

I sat up and instinctively wrapped my arms around myself, squeezing until my ribs hurt. "It's complicated, Gabriel. Since when was writing an indication of my misery, anyway?" I asked, glazed eyes fixed on the wall behind him.

He cocked an eyebrow at my whiteboard, which was carelessly discarded at the edge of the bed. 

"Lonely is the night. Silent is my yearning for a love I refuse myself." It read.

"Oh, that." I said, jerking myself forward to grab it and hastily erase the words with a swipe of my hand and a blush on my cheeks. "That's nothing. Just my unoriginality."

"Then why'd you write it?" He sing-songed with a challenging leer. God damn him.

I glared. "Because I'm too tired. I can't think straight." He and I both knew what a shitty answer that was.

"Why do you yearn?" He drawled in an attempt to mock my writing. I flushed in anger despite my sleepiness.

"That's the point," I lied through gritted teeth. "The sound is silent. Therefore nonexistent."

"Maybe you just can't hear it." His gaze softened. "Some sounds are so quiet they can only be heard if you listen very closely."

I held my hands out in front of me in an empty gesture as I continued this ridiculous debate and asked in a desperation I mentally kicked myself for, "Why would I want to hear a yearning for something I will not let myself have?" Both of our expressions were painstricken at the end of my question. The room filled with an uneasy silence.

"Because you don't think you deserve love." His face was stone and he looked right through me as I was unable to dodge his impenetrable gaze.

"Then why would I 'yearn'?" I mumbled in discomfort as I tried to use sarcasm to ease the tension of the room. Gabriel would not allow it.

"Because part of you still wants it." He whispered, hands reaching to hesitantly graze over my own splayed ones. I flinched at the sudden contact and a wave of heat, foreign to my skin and bitter to force down my throat as void of meaning. I scooted myself back until I was flush with the headboard, knees pressed against my chest and hands holding me in place.

"What did you come for, Gabriel?" He looked hurt at my question, as if I never wanted him to come. I would never admit to waiting for him some nights.

"You were sad."

"How could you have known?"

"I could sense it." A shiver ran down my spine, intrigue twisted to repulse as my mind refused to feel for the archangel.

"So you came because your spidey-senses were tingling and you couldn't help but seek out the cause?" The intended humour drained from my voice, merely a whisper in the still room. I regret meeting his eyes, for they were as dark and nervous as mine. I licked my lips.

"Why are you up so late, again?"

I relaxed from my position, grateful for the change in subject, although still on edge. "Sleep is a waste of time. I can carry on perfectly fine with three to six hours of it per night." I stated as-a-matter-of-factly. He smirked as if the last five minutes had never happened.

"The way you treat yourself, you're gonna die sooner than later." I frowned, stiffening at his frightfully emotional words.

"I treat myself perfectly fine, what do you care anyway?"

"I care because you don't. You treat yourself like shit and for what?" He snapped.

"For nothing! What the hell is wrong with a few missed hours of sleep?"

"And the self-respect issue? I have never seen you so much as poke someone with any affection whatsoever. You push away anyone who tries to show you love. What the hell is that?"

I was fuming and nearly screaming at the irritating archangel before me. "Avoiding the feeling altogether is easier than forcing some poor sap to put up with me all the time! Someone else in pain because of my doing is the worst thing I could put upon anyone! No one needs to hurt because of me, especially not because of me." I spit the last words, jutting my chin and locking eye contact. My eyes betrayed sheer terror, for I had never told anyone that before.

"Your fear is what's causing others pain." Tears stung my eyes as Gabriel spoke the very words I have been dreading to hear my entire life.

"No, no. I tried. No one ever..." I choked, suddenly overwhelmed with striking remorse.

Gabriel leaned forward to hiss in my ear with a sad grimace on his lips. "All the broken souls that never got to experience the affection of someone they long to hold, such as you."

"No, no one ever _dared_ to love me." I collected myself and stated firmly, sniffing and shaking my head slightly as to avoid his words.

"You're wrong." He whispered in a wistful coo. My eyes squeezed shut as the levee within me broke and my hands shot up from their place in the sheets to grab fistfuls of his hair as I climbed onto his lap and pushed him so I was looking down at a pair of slightly bewildered and stormy golden eyes. I was nauseous with the overwhelming emotion, regurgitating from my mind in fits of rage and denial.

A lifetime of pent up feelings were released into my voice as I pressed his scratchy cheek to mine and whispered through gritted teeth, "No."

Originally stunned from the quick change in position, Gabriel tugged my arms from around his back and gripped me by the shoulders. He rolled us over in one swift turn so he was above a panicked me, holding my arms to my chest in a corpse manner, still looking to avoid further contact in fear of falling into the emotion completely. Gabriel only partook in the childish fashion of who's above who to display authority in the situation. Seeing how miserable I was, he decided to attempt a gentler approach, looking with kindred eyes into my own frightened ones. "You are so stubborn. Love. Say it."

He smiled down at a wide-eyed me, who was now very confused. He pressed his forehead to mine, breathing the word onto my clamped lips. "Love," He began to sing. Oh God, please don't sing.

"Love," I admitted tersely, scrunching my nose at the proximity of his face to mine. His lips thinned and his eyes narrowed in doubt before he urged closer, and I could not sink into the bed any further. 

"Say it." He whispered. I closed my eyes to avoid his urging gaze.

"Love," I articulated dramatically, almost brushing lips with him. The word was foreign and left an unusual taste on my tongue. "Now get off." When I opened my eyes, the archangel was standing aside the bed once more. I didn't like the affection gleaming in his eyes when he looked down at me, so I sat up abruptly and crawled back to my space on the pillows. 

He had a smug look on his face as he stood and watched me snatch my laptop from under my pillow and begin furiously tapping away on the keys in a huff of anger. "I hate you." I grumbled, keeping my eyes to the screen.

Ignoring my remark, he leaned in so his face brushed mine and I jerked the laptop so it was facing away from him. "What'cha writing?"

"Nothing." I said. 

His lips curved up in a knowing smirk. "Call it 'Reject'." I caught his eye and my lips twitched up in a small smile before mumbling softly.

"Shut up." And began to write. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a drama queen


	3. Drowse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This guy never comes in the daytime. Shit man

Laying on my bed with a serene feeling, I listened to the sounds of the motel around me. My hands were clasped on my lap, one foot crossed over the other as I heard a faint thumping against the wall. It was followed by a moan, one of which could only have derived from a porno. I suddenly screwed up my face in distaste, no longer at peace with my surroundings. 

Sighing, I leaned forward to steal a sip of soda from the icy can that precariously stood atop the spring-board mattress. Sudden inspiration hitting me like a brick wall, I picked up one of my new markers and began to practice my longhand. I smiled as the fresh ink bled onto the board in thick, swooping lines.

Once finished with my soda, I snatched the bag of candy I had stolen from the nearest convenience store and thoughtfully chewed on a Twix bar. 

The (near-)silence was peaceful. I loved the time to myself, to just sit and think ab-

"Wow, they are really going at it." 

Gabriel. 

I would have jumped if I weren't so used to the late-night intrusions. "Yep," I responded, mouth full of chocolate. The crinkling of the candy wrapper caught his attention, and he snapped up a Snickers bar to enjoy. Mid-chew, he stopped to visibly wince at my whiteboard as if there was a dead fetus on the bed.

"I see you're feeling better." He concluded, tipping his head towards the board and presuming his chewing.

"I hope a thorny tentacle pierces your asshole so fast you could see the tendril escape your lips before dying." I had enscribed and ended with a heart.

I gave a huff of laughter. "I was feeling creative, plus I got new markers."

The archangel looked at me with an entertained smirk and a hint of inferiority in my direction. "You humans get so worked up over such little things." With a careless snap of his fingers, markers flooded my lap and nearly covered the bed.

"Hey!" I objected, feeling belittled. 

"What?" He asked, shrugging with a sly act of innocence.

"You're taking the fun out of it." I mumbled, pouting my lip in anger. Sighing, Gabriel clicked his fingers once more and the markers were gone, save the ones I had purchased.

"You're taking the fun out of having the power of manifestation." 

" _You_ have the power, not me. I like earning my shit, not having it handed to me by some asshat archangel." I expected him to feign hurt, but he instead stopped to leer. Golden eyes looked right through me and I shifted under his steeled gaze.

"You're so cynical." He concluded with a playful rise to his voice. I scoffed and rolled my eyes as my lips quirked up with them. "Will you take anything from anyone?"

"I've taken too much from too many. I'm not some charity case; I can get whatever I need by myself." I stated simply, as if said a thousand times before.

It was his turn to scoff. "Lame. You need to lighten up, go get laid or something. Maybe grab some poor guy and make him pay for your dinner. Lady stuff." 

I pretended to think over Gabriel's sarcastic suggestion. "Hm, no. You know I don't like to date." 

"Yeah, yeah. Conceal, don't feel- whatever floats your lifeless boat, Elsa." He sat on the bed, legs over the edge, body propped up by his arm.

"Really? We're quoting Disney now?" I couldn't help but laugh at the shrug I got in return. Yawning, I leaned further back into my pillows as a sudden sleepiness washed over me. "It's not that I don't love love, I just don't like hurting people, you know?" 

I could see the same grave look on his face Gabriel developed when he was in thought. "Why so serious?" I slurred, breaking his trance as I leaned forward and lightly butted my head against his forehead. 

He was surprised at the sudden contact, but remained unexpectedly silent as I rambled. "You come so late in the night to talk to me. To talk about love and get me all mad."

"You're fun when you're upset." To my surprise, he spoke like a hushed parent would a child.

"I am not fun." I laughed at the idea. "I don't like people."

"Neither do I."

"Hey..." I fell forward, sinking my face into the sheets in front of Gabriel's lap.

"You and the boys are an exception." I hear as I wiggled to lay on my back, feet propped up against the wall, now void of sexual vibration. He leaned forward to look at me and I gave a broad smile, albeit drunken from my lack of sleep.

"Touch." I poked his eyebrow. "Touch, touch." I continued to poke his face, and he held the same fascinated expression. 

"Look, I _can_ feel." 

He gently took my hands, splayed them, and glided his fingers from my wrists to the tips of my own. "Yep." He whispered gently. I looked up at him, a bit dazed. He then leaned down to gently kiss the tip of my nose. "Call it 'Drowse'." And he had gone. I was alone again, and very confused.

Despite my tire, I dragged over my laptop and began clicking away at the keys before falling into a deep sleep.


	4. Philophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does he want from me?

"What are you thinking about?"

"Are you high?" The archangel turned his head so he was facing me from a respectable distance on the bed. The pillows sat about a foot above us. Gabriel had been visiting me every now and then, usually when I was trying to write my feelings in solitude. He would never allow me a moment of sadness in isolation; he always came into the room to dispel the downcast emotions or share them with me.

Now we lay side by side, staring at the dreary ceiling that never seemed to change as I travelled from motel to motel. There was always the familiar feeling upon entering the room after hunting as if I was in a recurring dream. It was nice to have company, although I'd never admit it.

"Hey, I think it's a perfectly normal question to ask." My lips quirked up in a stubborn smile as he thought over how to answer.

"What do you think I'm thinking about?" He lifted a eyebrow as if I would know.

"How the hell would I know?"

"Guess."

"You're terrible." I fixed him with a scrutinizing gaze which seemed quite childish compared to his own unwavering one. "I'm guessing donuts." I concluded with a small comfirmation nod of my head. 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Donuts? Really?"

I glared. "Shut up. And tell me." He laughed, turning his head back towards the ceiling.

"You, obviously. And donuts, now that you say so... But mostly you." 

I blushed, but quickly disguised my surprise with a harsh laugh. "As to why would you be thinking of little old me? I didn't think I had _that_ much of an effect on people, or angels for that matter." 

Gabriel kept his ponderous gaze to the ceiling, as if there were an entire galaxy hidden between the cracks of the crumbling plaster. The only gesture of acknowledge I recieved was a flash of a smirk, its mischief failing to reach his golden eyes. "You are glowing with a medley of emotion. Not like other humans. Instead of a low opinion of yourself, there is an obligation to make yourself useful. Instead of hatred, you eminate apology."

I shifted as he turned his head to meet my eyes, now very uncomfortable as he looked into me. "You see yourself as you have always been treated; an object to ridicule, abuse. Feeling as though if you do not meet perfection, you will never be worthy of anything." His gaze shifted to one of pity, causing me to fill with anger towards him. I wanted to scream, to object, to say anything. But I couldn't form the words. I couldn't lie.

We held eye contact for awhile, as the silence streamed our thoughts to eachother. Gabriel's bled for me. They howled apologies for all that I have put myself through, and attempted to enforce a higher opinion of myself into my brain. I refused. My burning glare roared threats and warnings, refusing his attempt to reach out. I put up an icy wall between me and the affection as I curled up into a wailing ball and hid deeper inside myself. Hid as I always have.

After several moments, I jerked away from him and faced the wall as I crossed my arms. I squeezed my eyes shut with a bitter grimace as I heard his shifting on the bed. I could feel the heat of Gabriel's vessel close to my back and I tried to forget his eyes. A hand on my shoulder made it increasingly difficult.

"Don't shut me out." I could hear a 'please' in his voice, unspoken for it was not his place to beg. The archangel was drawing nearer to the point of getting on his knees, for his voice was merely a broken whisper. "Don't shut me out again."

"No." I tried to forget his hand now squeezing my arm. "Stop." I could only find the two words in a sea of remorse and apology I wanted to scream. I tucked my knees in closer to myself, trying to curl into a ball small enough to disappear. 

Gabriel suddenly jerked me back, so I was splayed out on the bed. My eyes remained shut as I lay, unrelenting and uncaring as to what damage was to be inflicted. To my surprise, with a soft click of his fingers I sat up in the bed. I opened my eyes to see him slouched over with a sad look in his eyes.

His change of character scared me, and I sat still to see what he would do next. He looked like a broken toy, awaiting repair that would never come. Crumpled, he took a moment to drag his now pale eyes over my frail self. I could see the helplessness in his face, towards me, and himself. With a twist of his lips, his mouth reluctantly formed his last few words. "Call it: Philophobia." 

He lifted my numb left hand and kissed my palm, looking as if he were close to tears. I bit my lip as the room around me began to blur. The starchy feel of the bed sheets morphed into latex against my skin and a light filled the room. Panicking, I began to thrash around but Gabriel quickly leaned in to wrap my arms around myself as if I were a corpse to be buried. I was leaned back against the rubbery fabric that was my pillow as the archangel whispered in my ear. I could not hear what he said for a heavy thud of an unlatching door boomed over his voice.

I sat up suddenly, wide-eyed and unaware I had closed them. The motel room was gone, only to be replaced with grey walls, all cushioned save the door in the far corner of the room. It was opened to reveal a glowering man walking towards me. He threw a pen and journal beside me and leaned to carefully take my quivering arms from their restricting slings.

"You've got an hour. Don't kill yourself." He grumbled, and promptly shut the heavy metal door behind him. Greasy strands of hair hung in my face as I flexed my fingers, now free of their cloth prison. "Laptop" was written by my hand on the front of the ragged journal. 

Reaching for my pen, I flipped through the filled pages of the journal, of the stories _Sandpaper, Reject, Drowse_ , landing on an empty page. On the page before it, I read "Love yourself." They were the only words written in shorthand. I smiled and clenched my left fist, remembering the kiss. Remembering all the sleepless nights, with the archangel. With myself.

I lifted my pen, and began to write.


	5. Sickly Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, I need a drink and a lawyer

Everything was hazy, like a bad television reception. My surroundings flickered around me as I brought them to life. I had control, I always had control. I was hunched over, as if in a half-hearted duck for the floor. But I was walking. Grey corners met me at every step. They moved back and forth from my nose, coming closer and retreating back to the lighter walls. I turned each one without anxiety, as if I knew my way out of this cramped maze. The walls looked illuminated, and the light gave me hope, even though it tricked me with another grey corner to turn instead of the source. 

Apprehension filled me as I saw the person who must have took me here. I came with people, I know. He turned each corner as if he were floating past me. I followed suit, curving my step around each wall as I became dizzy. I finally caught sight of his face. His shoulders were hunched too, but his expression was unfamiliar. His mouth was pulled into a grimace, his eyes hooded and cloudy with a sorrowful hatred.

I am no longer in control. 

My own thoughts filled my head. _Who is it?_ Bounced from each wall and back into my ears, but I knew as soon as I could ask. Anger flared within me and I hurried my step, jogging after my elusive captor. My mind whispered in rhythm to my step. _It’s him, it’s y-_

I quickly make myself forget, reshaping my mind into that of a person of ignorance and with my knowledge goes my anger. I come to a halt on feet I cannot feel or see, too dizzy to storm after this depressed stranger. The toes I manifest are sore from their dance. I came with people, I know.

***

I open my eyes and it’s difficult to breathe. The room I am in is a blinding white, a large contrast from the grey blend of the maze walls. The first figure I see must be the person who brought you here, walking down a grand staircase as if he held every moment the earth could offer in his stride. His hands moved with his lips and painted his over-enunciated words. I blurred my vision and made myself omniscient to the situation. I have no appearance anymore.

 _Why would I do this? Why is he here?_ The two others I came with stood in the far end of the infinitely white room, poised to fight. They stood opposite me, I estimated twenty feet. I played out a scene I’ve seen a thousand times before and sped it up. I am in control.

*The villain makes his way down the stairs explaining a drawn out plan for either themselves or the listeners for no other reason than to gloat. The two heroes stand, anxious to fight, to move. The cannot, though. They stand, either unsure or trapped. Probably both. The villain makes his way past them, smug about himself and his genius…*

But once he passed me, I changed his appearance. _Too close. Must not-_ A blonde woman with a ponytail and a pantsuit, probably in her thirties, walked past instead. I was content to sit back, out of sight. However, she locked eyes with me and flashed a knavish smirk.

I am no longer in control.

She was now behind me, and I was turned away from the staircase and my companions, rather towards a ceiling to floor row of windows. But only for a moment, as time slowed and the look in her eyes kindled a fire I never knew I had sparked. I don’t remember shoving her shoulder, only a roaring scream in my head as well as a short cry from her and her descent to the ground. I felt the thin wooden handle of the only blade that I thought could kill her. It was wrong, but I was hasty with its design. 

A surge of power washed over me and I pressed the sharp edge of the blade against the thin skin of her neck. My mouth was closed but I was still screaming, and she was trembling as she tried to regain her breath. Straddling her, I forced her shoulder against the ground. The woman showed no fear, nor did she try to overpower me, which I knew she could. 

Swallowing, she waited. I tentatively cut a thin line at the top of her throat with a suddenly limp arm. I had never killed before. I wanted it to end quickly, and rid myself of this creature. Her eyes squeezed shut as she flinched and a small trickle of blood came from the wound. _“Do it.”_ She whispered through gritted teeth. Her voice echoed through my head in a thousand different voices, but I pretended not to hear. Gritting my teeth, I gathered all of my strength. As I looked down at the fearless woman, her face flickered. As I lost my wits she became the man I was following in the maze, just as disturbingly sad and hateful as he was before. _“Do it.”_ He pleaded through clenched teeth. A chill ran through me as my eyes widened and I cried, _No!_ to myself and slashed his throat with tears in my eyes before he morphed back into the woman. My strength failed me in the end, but blood still poured from her throat and gurgled into her mouth as she coughed. Her body jerked upwards as she shouted, _“Kill me!” ___

Blood painted her lips scarlet. _Kill me_ I sliced deeper, just at the base of her neck, ignoring the pressure on my own neck. More blood came from the wound, and I was relieved. But she didn't weaken or die. Her eyes bored into me as she kept urging me to cut deeper. 

Once, when I dared to draw my eyes from her bloodied throat back to her face, she was the man once more. My tormentor, who- for the first time- looked as tormented as I. The sight revolted me and I cringed, drowning out his pleads with my own devastated screams. I repeatedly slashed his throat, relentless and desperate for this nightmare to end. The blade sliced open his throat, but in the last slip of the wrist I lost strength in my wrist. Tears streamed down my face as blood kept gushing from his throat and his commands were warbled. I saw that tears ran down his face as the pressure on my own neck held its own piercing pain. Once my voice was sore and I could only see red through my blurred vision, I felt a hand pull me off of my victim and push me away, into a pool of his blood. The last thing I heard was his screaming, almost mocking you and challenging me to kill him.

I felt like I was being choked I continued wailing until his screaming stopped as the wooden blade pierced his throat, and his cries were silenced. There was surprise glazed over his eyes, as if he had expected me to kill him instead of Sam. 

***

I wake up suddenly, gasping. Lifting myself from the ground, I found my fist was pressed against my neck in my sleep, my thumb jabbing into my neck. The guards left my jacket unstrapped.

I grab my notebook and pencil they also forgot, and begin to write.

_I should have killed myself after, but I needed to explain why the rapists had to die. I shouldn't have fed them to the butchers, though. But they needed a taste of their own medicine._

_Judges have no sense of humor, if you ask me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off of a real dream that scared me shitless.


End file.
